Ring for Malfoy
by frigiggle
Summary: Harry's in trouble again, its been 7 years since the war but the ministry is still able to get Harry into trouble, I suppose that what you get for working for them. The minister has asked Harry for a favour and the only one who can help is a complete pain in Harry's arse.
1. Chapter 1

Harry stood staring in the mirror, his wand raised with a piece of parchment clasped in his other hand.

"Et Capillus Mundus" he said sternly giving his wand a firm flick.

When nothing happened Harry discarded the piece of paper by lighting it swiftly on fire and muttered "Damn it "to himself as he licked his palm and tried to straighten his hair without magic. The saliva had no effect.

Harry's hair just didn't get with the idea that he was an adult now. It continued to make him look like a ragamuffin, and with his hair like that it didn't matter how good his clothes looked, he always came across as a teenager. So instead he took to trying to look functional instead of mature. Being an Auror, it is important to look functional and Harry's messy hair went quite well with the long black leather coat and big black boots, or so he's told. Sure my hair's sexy, he said to himself as he walked down stairs. But what good are you really, he thought running his hand over it again. I should just shave it all off; do a Kingsley. You'd deserve it, he thought looking up into his fringe.

Today he was done up in his finest clothes, so its lack of order showed even more next to the dark silver robes. He had an interview with the Head of the Auror office today. The position had originally been offered to Harry but he had turned it down. He was over being the leader, having all the responsibility. He just wanted to be partnered with Ron and have a good time being normal for once. So instead Dawlish had got the job and the last few years had run quite smoothly; well until yesterday at 3 pm when Harry had received an owl requesting his presence at a formal meeting with Auror Dawlish. Harry didn't know what the meeting was about but he had a fairly good idea that it wasn't going to end well.

o0o0o0o0o0o00o

He knocked on the door of Dawlish's office and was told to enter almost immediately. Dawlish was sitting behind his desk smiling quite widely.  
"Potter, how good of you to come," Dawlish said a little bit too cheerily as he gestured to a chair.  
Harry sat down with a flump and looked Dawlish right in the eyes; Dawlish's smile dropped but only momentarily.

"Come on now Potter don't give me that look," said Dawlish perking his smile back up.  
Harry still said nothing instead he dropped his eyes and stared at his hands.

"So," said Dawlish, followed by an awkward pause that Harry couldn't handle.

"So what?" asked Harry.

Dawlish looked pleased to have finally gotten something out of Harry.

"So I wanted to talk to you about how you're liking your job," said Dawlish. "Everything good? You feeling you're doing all you want to? Not bored or anything are you?" asked Dawlish, just a shake of nervousness in his voice.

Harry squinted his eyes at Dawlish, "No everything's great sir. Happy to be doing my bit," said Harry trying to come off as happy.

There was a long pause as Dawlish looked at the papers on his desk. He seemed to have been hoping for a different answer.

"Well, you see Harry," said Dawlish.

Oh he's using my first name, here it comes thought Harry to himself, ready…

"We were wondering if you could do us a favour," continued Dawlish.

And BINGO.

"What kind of favour? And who is 'we'?" Harry asked, not making eye contact.

"The Minister and I. He has asked me to ask you this favour," answered Dawlish, looking as though he wasn't liking it one bit.

"The favour involves… Well… You know how they how they discovered a new sort of dragon egg in Australia?" Dawlish asked tentatively.

"Yes…" said Harry completely lost.

"Well over in Australia they don't have that many wizards. So their research department is really small and they lack the resources that's needed to find out more about the egg. They aren't equipped to research a whole new breed of dragon. So they are going to bring in some researchers and representatives from a country of their choosing to help with the research," said Dawlish rather slowly.

"Which country have they chosen?" asked Harry  
Dawlish looked down at his papers again.

"They haven't chosen yet," he said.

There was a long pause while Dawlish seemed to get his strength up.

"We really want them to choose us to help with such ground-breaking research. So we have invited the head of their research department to come and visit. See our facilities, meet a few of our research team. You know, show her what we can do for her research that others can't." Dawlish said all this with such pride in his country that Harry would have grinned if he wasn't so absolutely at a loss as to how that could have anything to do with him.

Dawlish got quiet again and he finally mumbled "She has shown a great interest in meeting you."

Oh so that's how it was, thought Harry. Use me to butter her up and get them a juicy piece of research and I bet a fair amount of press.

"Oh has she?" asked Harry.

Dawlish looked at Harry and in that moment he knew that Harry understood.

Dawlish squared his shoulders, straightened his back and said clearly, "She is to stay with you for the duration of her visit. You are to take her to all assigned locations on her itinerary and you are to, well, make us look good, Potter." Dawlish stood up, passed Harry a folder full of what Harry assumed were the details and then with the most apologetic look he could muster said, "You are excused from work for the next month to prepare. See you around, Potter."

He then gestured to his office door and slumped down in his chair, relief all over his face.  
Harry bottled his rage. A month just kept ringing in his ears as he nodded to Dawlish and stalked out of the office making a beeline for the elevator.

0o0o0oo0o0o0o0oo

Kingsley's door was open. So Harry didn't get to throw it open and barge in quite like he had planned in the elevator, so he had to settle for storming in and trying to look as pissed-off as possible which wasn't that hard considering the circumstances.

Kingsley was sitting behind his desk. He looked up, smiled at Harry and gestured to a chair. Instead, Harry threw the folder down on Kingsley's desk and glared at him. Kingsley smiled at him and Harry was reminded so strongly of Dumbledore that he almost felt like he was back at school again.

"Oh good to see you've got all the details," said Kingsley, smiling up at Harry.

"Why me?" asked Harry "I could have met her, I could have smiled and had lunch and done all that stuff. Why does she have to live with me?!"

"You are the only one with a house that big, that close to the city," said Kingsley plainly.

Harry interrupted, "Oh 'cause we aren't able to like move from one place to another INSTANTLY! It doesn't matter how far away she stays!"

"You are one of our best Aurors," continued Kingsley. "She will need protection. Your house is beautiful and a real piece of English wizarding history." Harry was still fuming but at least now he was listening. "You have a house elf, so she can see up-close how we treat creatures under our protection and employ."

"Why does that matter?" asked Harry, cutting in again.

"Well Australians like their animals; it's what comes from having a lot of their very special and rare creatures going extinct. So they have a lot of national parks and things like that. So I bet it would help to see that we treat magical creatures with care and love and now, thanks to Miss Granger, a wage and security." He finished then looked to Harry for more questions. Harry quickly thought about why this was a bad idea again.

"Why do I need a month?" Harry asked forcefully.

Kingsley laughed quite heartily at this, "Harry, I have spent many hours in that house. I know what's inside it and even the great Molly Weasley couldn't get rid of it all. Plus I have a feeling you don't keep it half as clean as she did. So you will need a month. I also suggest that you get yourself some help, an Assistant of some kind," said Kingsley.

Harry looked sulky but knew he couldn't win this one. "Okay fine then," he said, picking the folder up from the desk, ready to storm from the room.

"Oh and Harry," said Kingsley making him stop. "Just a few more things. I got an owl this morning saying that she won't be coming alone. She is bringing a friend as a chaperone of sorts."

Harry looked horrified at the implication.

"A chaperone?" he said in disbelief.

"Oh come now Harry, she's traveling to a country she's never been to, to stay with a man who lives alone, it makes complete sense," said Kingsley almost rolling his eyes. "I will also be sending someone to inspect the house two days before she arrives. So June…"Kingsley looks at his forms "18th; that gives you enough time to fix things if need be," said Kingsley giving Harry a smile.

Harry was about to leave, he was standing in the doorway by this time.

"Oh and Harry, you look so nice in robes like that. Better get used to them because you will have to look your best around Miss Brown," said Kingsley as Harry left the room, steam coming from both ears.

o0o0oooo0


	2. Chapter 2

"A whole month," said Harry again that night on Hermione's carpet holding on to a glass of fire whisky like a life line.

"I know mate, it's awful," said Ron sympathetically. "Don't worry though I'll tell you all about work, you won't miss a thing. Okay?"

Ron looked so worried that it did bring a slight quirk to Harry's mouth; well that and the fire whisky.

"It won't be so bad," Hermione said, sitting down next to him and taking his hand. "We'll help out where we can. It'll be over before you know it."

Harry sighed and accepted his fate. "Okay, so I have 3 months to clean the house, learn to cook, be polite and dress nicely," said Harry, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

"Dress nicely?" asked Hermione. "Who told you to do that?"

"Kingsley said I have to wear proper robes, not my Auror ones, and make a good impression," said Harry. He could hear the childish tone to his voice but he didn't care.

"Weird," said Hermione.

"Well it's not that weird really," said Ron.

Harry and Hermione both looked up, surprised that Ron thought it completely normal for Harry to dress up for a woman, since he had been caught on occasion even sleeping in his Auror robes.

"Well… I heard Dawlish talking to someone, and from what I heard, I think they want you to look your best because… you're a good looking guy and maybe… well hopefully she'll like the look of you… Maybe she'll pick Britain because she's staying with a handsome young hero instead of a count in Bulgaria with a widow's peak and stuff ... If you know what I mean." Ron said this all without making eye contact, but his ears were flaming red by the time he had finished.

"Wait, how old is this woman?" asked Harry.

"You haven't looked her up yet?" asked Hermione aghast.

"Sorry Hermione, I was busy wallowing in self-pity," answered Harry.

"Olivia Brown is a 27 year old woman. She graduated head of her class from Feathertop school of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Wow, and she's already the head of her department. I thought she'd be like 40 or something," Harry said amazed.

"Yeah," Hermione said with a grin. "Not sure whether there really aren't that many wizards and witches over there or if she's just extraordinary."

"Sounds like an Australian Hermione," said Ron with a grin. That fire whisky really is getting to his head, thought Harry.

"Okay, time to go then. I'll think about this properly in the mornings" said Harry, standing up swaying slightly.

"Yeah I better go too," said Ron allowing Harry to haul him up from the carpet.

"'Night Hermione," they chorused together as they both disapparated with one loud CRACK!  
Ron arrived back at the flat above the shop where his brother had left bangers and mash on the bench with a note.

_Don't you dare put these in the oven and wake me up (like last time). Use a heating charm or so help me I'll kill you. _

_Love George x _

Harry arrived back to the sight of his next 3 month's work. He walked from room to room in a daze looking at everything: the broken beds, the old stove, the broken water heater, the walls of portraits and peeling wallpaper. The Kitchen was the most depressing; Harry couldn't cook, and he admitted it, but he kept trying anyway. He thought doing it by magic would be easier and still every now and then his food would let out a BANG and splatter across the room. Harry sat down at the kitchen table staring at the ceiling and thought about Sirius. He had thought he'd been alone in this house but he had had the Order at least. Sirius had wanted him to have this house, so Harry knew he could never leave it, Sirius was too important, but sometimes Harry thought about selling it. Buying a cosy one bedroom in the city that wouldn't feel so empty. Grimmauld place was just too big, Harry had to make a mess of it just so that it felt lived-in and so he didn't feel so completely out of place with his muddy black boots and crumpled hair and tendency to make his food explode. Kreacher would go nuts wanting to clean all the time but Harry told him to only clean Harry's room and spend the rest of his time at Hogwarts. He couldn't look at the huge vastness of a clean Grimmauld Place.

Harry slept in Sirius' room. He had Kreacher make it over when he first moved in after the war. He wanted so badly to be close to Sirius that the rest of the house was left as it was. It was plain and clean and the smallest of the house. Harry liked it blank, it was refreshing compared to the rest of the house, always covered in paintings that he couldn't take down and mounted elf heads that Kreacher wouldn't or couldn't remove.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Harry woke up to an owl tapping on his bedroom window.

"Kreacher" he croaked. A large CRACK in the air next to his bed and Kreacher was there, peering over him.

"Master is call, sir?" asked Kreacher, bowing down low.

"Let that owl in," Harry said groggily.

Once the owl was in it flew to Harry's bed, gave his pillow a sharp peck and held out its leg. Harry's fingers were a bit clumsy but he got the small scroll off the disgruntled owl's leg without much trouble. He hoped it was a note to say he actually had to come into work today, that this had all been a huge mistake, or maybe there was a huge accident and he was needed. But no. It was a note from Kingsley.

_Dear Harry,  
After a night to think on it I have come to the conclusion that you won't hire an Assistant. So I have decided to do it for you. I have set my PA on to the task to find you the best person possible.  
Kind regards,  
Kingsley._

Harry screwed the note up and threw it into the nearest bin. He was too tired and hung over to care about it right now. Kreacher was looking up at him curiously from next to his bed. Harry hated when he did that, looked at him like his master.

I suppose this is the best time to start then thought Harry.

Harry rolled over not wanting to look at him while he said it.

"I want you to clean the Kitchen, Kreacher," Harry croaked into his pillow.

With a great squeak of excitement that Harry almost couldn't believe came out of Kreacher, the house elf went clattering down the stairs and out of sight. There was a loud crashing noise shortly thereafter; Kreacher had probably knocked something over on the stairs. Good, Harry thought with a smile; that should keep him busy for the day. Okay what else? Cooking. Surely Kreacher can cook. That takes care of that. Harry began to think that he had accomplished a lot in a short time, and in bed no less. He grinned to himself and decided that on that note he better get up.

He got in the shower and stared at his vast collection of hair care products. He had everything from Unruly Hair Away, from Wild to Mild in just one wash, to Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment.

As the water pounded down on his shoulders he gave up. He wasn't leaving the house today and it wasn't like any of it worked anyway. So he grabbed his body wash and relished in lathering it up between his hands. The vanilla scented bubbles were square, Harry still couldn't get used to magic sometimes. He stared at his hand which look slightly Lego-covered and snorted in amazement. His snort dislodged a few bubbles that then floated off to be popped by the water spraying down. Harry smiled as he thought about the Prefects' bathroom, remembering all the different bubbles, scents, vapours and mists. Smiling lazily Harry's hand started to slip down toward his morning wood. He gave it a few lazy strokes but soon gave up. He wasn't in the mood. God, get a life Harry, he thought to himself, you can't even masturbate properly. With a sigh he rinsed the soap off and turned off the water. He paused then and stood for a moment letting the cold air turn the water all over his body cold, goose bumps broke out all over his skin and he admired his arm, brushing his hand over the hair standing there. When the cold got too much he gave his head a few flicks trying to dislodge as much water as possible, then grabbed the closest towel. The razor that the Delacours had given him gave him a very close shave and he was ready to venture down stairs, his bottom half still wrapped in a towel.

What he found was laughable. Kreacher was standing at the bottom of the stairs that went down into the Kitchen. The Kitchen floor was clean. It looked like Kreacher had removed everything from the Kitchen to clean somewhere else and had started with the floor and surfaces. The floor was shining but Kreacher didn't look happy, he looked miserable. He was just staring at the stairs looking like Christmas was cancelled. Harry realised that he had said Kreacher could clean the Kitchen and the stairs down from the hallway obviously weren't considered to be part of the Kitchen. They were still dusty, black and stained. Kreacher was just looking at them with distress written all over his leathery face.

"Okay" started Harry. Kreacher looked up at this, he hadn't noticed he was being watched. He looked at Harry imploringly. "You can clean these stairs. No other stairs, just these ones. Okay Kreacher?" finished Harry.

Kreacher looked like he might cry.

He bowed low and said to the floor boards, "Yes Master. Thank you Mr Harry Potter, sir."

"No problem, Kreacher," Harry said, making to walk down the stairs into the kitchen.

Kreacher looked at him then with such a look of worry that it was obvious he didn't want him in the new clean kitchen. Harry took pity on him. He knew he probably would mess it up again.

"Kreacher, could you make me some breakfast and bring it to me in my room?" asked Harry. Before Harry had finished this sentence Kreacher had produced a plate of bacon and eggs, knife and fork wrapped in a napkin balanced on the side. The whole lot was then held up under Harry's nose.

"Breakfast sir, I could bring Master coffee in his room, sir?" said Kreacher.

Harry smiled, "Okay Kreacher," he said.

He went to make his way to the study but was interrupted by the doorbell. Who on earth is that, thought Harry to himself. Hermione and Ron are the only people who ever visited him regularly, and they should both be at work at 2 pm on a Tuesday. With great curiosity, he walked down the corridor and peered through the peep hole. It was Hermione, she looked unhappy about being left out in the cold for so long.

"Oh come on Harry, I know you're in there. Hurry up!" she yelled through the door.

Harry hurriedly opened the door trying not to spill egg on himself. Hermione walked in and looked at him with her mouth open.

"What? I didn't know anyone was coming over," Harry said defensively.

Hermione grabbed a piece of bacon off his rather tilted plate and started to munch on it.

"You should put some clothes on," was all she said in return.

"What are you doing here anyway?" asked Harry.

"Did you get an owl this morning?" asked Hermione, ignoring his question.

"Yeah yeah, Kingsley's getting me an assistant," said Harry. "So what?"

"Well Rosemary his assistant was blabbing about it to her friends in the elevator and I overheard. So I have been running around all morning trying to find you the perfect assistant," said Hermione plainly.

"Wait what? Why?" asked Harry, completely at a loss.

"Well for one she's useless. Doesn't know her arse from her elbow. And, two, haven't you figured out that whoever she chooses will have to stay in your house. They will spend a lot of time with you…" said Hermione trailing off. She sounded like she was hinting at something but Harry didn't get it.

"Yeah?" he said back.

Hermione sighed, "It's the perfect opportunity for them to put a journalist in as your 'assistant'; imagine if someone like Rita Skeeter could move into your house for a month. Follow you around, dress you, cook for you, do your laundry! The press would be CRAZY!"

Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his fringe, he hadn't thought of that. Thank God for Hermione.

He breathed out, "Fuck".

"Yeah fuck," said Hermione. "Oh and you really should put some clothes on, he'll be arriving any time." She was interrupted by the door bell ringing.

She swung the door open and in barged no other than Draco Fucking Malfoy.

"Really, Potter," he said looking Harry up and down. It was only now that Harry realised he was holding cold bacon and eggs in one hand and his towel with the other. Oh shit, he thought, my towel. I am only wearing a towel. His face went rather red at this but wasn't going to let that get the best of him.

"What on earth is he doing here?" he asked Hermione, wanting her to make some sense of this.

"He is your new butler of sorts" said Hermione.

"What!?" said Harry, and before he could say any more Draco had grabbed a piece of bacon off Harry's plate and had pushed past them down the hallway.

Harry turned to Hermione who didn't look in Harry's opinion as ashamed as she should. She actually looked quite proud of herself.

"Why?" Harry asked "Why him?"

Hermione looked as if she was going to explain but Draco called from the end of the hall.

"Well he's under the impression you will be paying him a lot of money."

Harry's mouth hung open in shock.

"Ha," Hermione laughed. "He's joking. Well you will be paying him, but that's not all. One, he won't go blabbing to the press, well that's what he says, and even if he does no one's going to believe a Malfoy. Two, he's got experience with big houses, house elves and the Black family history. He isn't going to learn anything here he doesn't already know. Those are the two things I think are most important.

"But also he grew up in a pureblood household, he knows how to use his manners, he's trained in tailoring robes, he's got good fashion sense which in my opinion is very important and he's MALE," finished Hermione.

"What does him being a guy have to do with anything?" asked Harry.

"Well when I heard Rosemary talking in the elevator she was talking about what a good looking guy you were and how whoever got the job would be one lucky girl. I thought a woman might fall hopelessly in love with you and I would like to spare the poor girl's feelings. Since… well… you know." She said glancing awkwardly at the floor.

"Yeah okay fair point," said Harry also staring at the floor.

"Alright then," said Hermione straightening up. "I have to get back to work now, good luck. Don't kill him before dinner." She glanced at his plate of eggs. "Or in your case, lunch," she said opening the door and scuttling out into the cold.

Harry sighed and walked back up the hallway. Draco was sitting in the kitchen waiting for him, he had a cup of coffee between his pale, white hands. Across from him was another cup for Harry. Small bangs were issuing from inside the oven where Kreacher, Harry realised, must be cleaning.

This really wasn't going to be the nice relaxing day that Harry had planned.  
He took a deep breath, put his eggs down on the table and said to the room at large, "I am going to put some clothes on; when I come back we can talk." He turned to leave. "Oh and Kreacher," he said turning back. Kreacher's head popped out from the oven, the end of his nose covered in something black "Could you make me some more bacon and anything Mr Malfoy desires." Draco looked up at that, he looked shocked that Harry was actually being polite. "Within reason of course," he finished and head off upstairs.


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry returned to the kitchen some fifteen minutes later, Draco had a plate of scrambled eggs, along with his own bacon. Harry's eggs were steaming again, along with more bacon than he had ever been served. _I'm going to need it_, he thought to himself, and looked over to Kreacher to give him a thankful nod.

Watching Draco stabbing at his eggs, there wasn't a doubt in Harry's mind that he was thoroughly enjoying making Harry uncomfortable.

"So," Harry said as he slid into the seat across from Draco.  
There was a pause as Draco wiped his hands on a napkin and looked pointedly at Harry.  
"So, Granger says you've got yourself into something you can't handle. Again." Draco stared sharply into Harry's eyes.  
Harry stared back; he wasn't going to dignify that with an answer. The two just looked at each other.

Draco folded first; with a roll of his eyes, he looked down at his eggs again.

"Merlin, fine, Potter, don't get your knickers in a knot," he said with a snort.

Harry almost smiled at this, which then caused him to frown in confusion. Draco just rolled his eyes again.

"What happened? You used to be fun," lamented Draco.  
Harry grinned genuinely at this, and chose to ignore Draco's jibes.

"Okay so, I assume Hermione has told you the situation?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"New dragon, need researchers, blah blah blah," Draco droned. "The Ministry is under the foolish impression that _you _are capable of charm. Which is where I come in."

"I can be charming!" Harry exclaimed, affronted.

"With hair like that? Please."

Harry returned sulkily to his bacon while Draco rattled off a list of apparently Dire To-Do's.

"Hair, obviously. Clothes—has no one ever told you your colours, Harry? You're a clear winter, you should _not_ be wearing red _or _orange. We can burn that jumper later. The house will need to be redecorated. You need to learn table manners, deportment—just every kind of etiquette. We'll need to discuss a menu. Does this researcher have any dietary requirements? Nevermind, I'll find out."

"If you're so perfect, why don't you charm her then?" Harry muttered.

"Don't be silly, Potter. I never developed a taste for Polyjuice Potion."

Harry glared at him. "Why are you funny now?"

Draco looked startled. "Necessity," he said after a moment. "Why aren't you?"

"Not much to laugh at, I guess."

"That is exactly my point."

It took Harry a second to decipher this, but when he did, he glanced down to hide the smile.

"Alright, Malfoy. Where should we start?"

Malfoy stood up with a flourish of expensive robes.

"Show me the house," he ordered and flounced out into the hall.

Harry glanced, stricken, between the door and a plate piled high with bacon. Stay with bacon, or follow Malfoy… Both? Both. Harry grabbed his plate and followed Malfoy out the door.

The tour was short and swift. They started in the hall, Malfoy looking about almost admiringly. Harry wondered if he had ever been in this house before, or if he was looking at it for the first time.

Malfoy peered into the dining room. The table was stacked high with china—the cabinets were, um, out of commission, let's just say that—and the chairs were dusty and covered in spider webs. Malfoy merely nodded to himself and continued down the corridor, but Harry paused in the doorway. It had been a long time since he had even glanced at the dining room. What would Molly think if she saw this place now? He grimaced at the thought.

Harry's reminiscing was interrupted by an abrupt call from Malfoy further down the corridor "What on earth is this?"

There was a big square grid of what looked, to the uneducated eye, like tiny black pyramids stuck to the wall. In the middle of the grid, in what Harry could attest was bright yellow paint, was a large, somewhat manic, smiley face.

Harry watched Malfoy poke at the pyramids experimentally. To his amusement, Malfoy pulled back his finger in shock when the tiny point went _squidge_ under his finger. Malfoy seemed lost for words; he just stared as Harry came to stand beside him.

"It's made of acoustic foam," Harry informed the mystified man, crunching down on a particularly satisfying piece of bacon.

"The question still remains though, Potter: what on earth is it?" repeated Malfoy.

"Muggle modern art," Harry replied.

Malfoy's face went from shocked to horrified within a second.

Harry turned to continue down the corridor, throwing casually over his shoulder, "And it stays."

Malfoy's scowl deepened.

As they headed up to the first floor, Malfoy again leading the way, they had to walk past the mounted house elf heads.

"Well they'll have to go," Malfoy remarked.

"I'm not sure if they can be removed," Harry said with hope—maybe he could still get out of this. "I've tried everything, can't get them to budge."

At this Malfoy gave a snort. "Oh and if you can't do it then no one can?"

Harry frowned down at his shoes. He hadn't meant it like that.

"No, I just meant, that…" Harry mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah I know." Harry didn't see the frown. "Don't worry, Potter, I'll get rid of them."

They continued on to the first floor, Malfoy glancing into all three rooms while Harry waited awkwardly on the landing. His bacon was almost gone by the time Malfoy gave another nod and proceeded up the next flight of stairs.

The second floor contained two bedrooms—including Harry and Ron's old room from the Order days—and a bathroom. At this point Malfoy took a pad from the pocket of his robes and wrote something down before closing it with a sharp snap and pushing past Harry.

The third floor was the same as the last, except for the master bedroom which Malfoy eyed greedily while scribbling in his notepad once again.

He then set off up the last set of stairs, leaving Harry staring at the place where Buckbeak had obviously used his talons to shred the curtains to ribbons. When he caught up with Malfoy, he found him standing in Harry's bedroom doorway with a confused look on his face.

"Yeah I know, it's smaller than the rest of them," Harry said.

"What's so special about this one, Potter? Master bedroom too grand for you?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry was stung by the comment. Malfoy didn't seem to notice though, going into Regulus's room opposite and giving the green and silver hangings a judgemental lift of his eyebrow.

"We done now?" Harry snapped, irritation showing in his voice.

"Yes," Malfoy answered breezily, swinging back out onto the landing and closing the door behind him.

"Good," Harry spat, already heading for the stairs.

He paused when he heard a squeak of hinges, and turned to find Malfoy staring at the nameplate permanently stuck to the door. He looked at Harry with understanding and pity, and Harry could have punched him in that moment. But before he could take a step, the look was gone, and it was like it had never happened.

Oo00o0oo0o0

They returned to the kitchen in silence, where Malfoy brought out his notepad again.

"I think we should put them on the second floor," he began, without acknowledging what had just happened. "The bathroom on that floor is the biggest, and the bedrooms will be more than satisfactory when I'm done with them. It would probably be best to put Miss Brown in the bedroom further down the corridor, and her chaperone in the smaller room closer to the landing."

Harry didn't like the way he said 'chaperone', but before he could interject, Malfoy continued, "I will be taking the master bedroom, and the dining room must be ready for company."

"Hold on a minute, Malfoy," Harry protested. "I never agreed to you staying here."

"Too bad, Hero Boy. If I'm to do this job properly—and I intend to—I need to be where the action is. If that means I also get to ride you 24/7, then I am more than happy to make that sacrifice."

Harry's traitorous mind conjured up images instantly, and he was suddenly glad of the table between them, hiding his lap. He ground his teeth, both willing the erection to go down, and for his hands to refrain from reaching across the table and strangling Malfoy. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

"Fine," he ground out, "but everything you do, you run by me. This is still my house and I make the decisions."

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Potter," Malfoy said, grinning.

He went back to scribbling in his notepad, finally ripping off a list and handing it to Harry.

_Master bedroom_

_Third floor bathroom_

_Dining room_

_Second floor bedrooms_

_Second floor bathroom_

_Staircases_

_Corridors_

_Entrance hall_

"What's this?" Harry asked doubtfully. He really hoped that Malfoy did not intend for _him _to get everything ready.

"Let me make something clear, Potter. I am not a maid. I do not clean. You have a house elf to do that for you. I am here for everything else," Malfoy stated matter-of-factly.

"So this is what? Kreacher's to do list?" Harry asked, relieved.

"Yes, pretty much. Got any problems with that?" Malfoy threw back.

"No," Harry grouched.

"Okay, then." And with that, Malfoy stood and left.

Harry heard his feet on the stairs and figured he was going to start on what was soon to be his bedroom.

"God, that sounds so wrong," Harry muttered under his breath, "even in my head."

It was at this point that Harry realised he hadn't had tea in an awfully long time, and stood up to make use of his kettle, and hopefully a large amount of biscuits. However, when he turned to the bench, Harry noticed that Kreacher must have been working silently around them. When he'd entered the kitchen with the snarky Malfoy it _was_ clean, but only in the sort of way that an empty house is clean. Now it sparkled. Everything was bright and in its place. Harry only remembered seeing it like this in the days before they tried to infiltrate the Ministry. Kreacher had even left a teapot and two cups on the bench next to the kettle.

"Kreacher," Harry called.

The swift _crack_ that followed gave the impression that Kreacher had been waiting on his summons.

"Yes, Master Potter, sir?" Kreacher bowed down low. Harry swore he could see the elf's tiny face in the shining floor.

"You've done a very good job in here, Kreacher."

_Maybe too good a job,_ Harry thought, looking around sadly.

"Thank you, sir, thank you," Kreacher said, nodding happily.

"Would you like another job?" Harry watched the little elf's face break out in a bright smile and was reminded of Dobby for a moment.

"Mr Malfoy will be staying with us for a while, and he wishes to sleep in master bedroom. I would like it very much if you could clean it."

Kreacher's forehead furrowed for a moment. Harry could tell that he thought the master bedroom was meant for the _Master_, but he didn't say anything, just nodded.

"Yes, sir, anything else, sir?" he asked eagerly.

At this Harry looked around, his eyes falling upon the teapot and the two cups. He _could_ send the cup up with Kreacher, but no, that wouldn't be polite, surely. If he was going to spend the next month with Malfoy, he should at least learn to bring the man tea.

"No, nothing else, Kreacher."

Kreacher nodded happily again and was gone.

O0o0o0o0o0o

Harry stood awkwardly in front of the teapot for a while, and then sighed, walked out into the hall and called up the staircase, "HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR TEA?!"

There was a stunned silence, and then a call of "English Breakfast, white, three sugars."

Harry scowled back up the stairs. _Of course he has that much sugar, pompous idiot._

A grin slid across his face. Just having that thought made him feel a lot better.

_I'm allowed to hate him. I don't have to like him just because he's staying here. I just have to tolerate him_, he thought. He said this to himself over and over again as he made the tea, every time making his smile a little more real.

He said it so many times that, when he pushed the bedroom door open with his hip, he was smiling so widely Malfoy had to stop and stare at him for a second.

"What?" Harry complained, his smile morphing into an offended frown.

"Nothing," Malfoy denied, looking away.

Harry held out a cup of tea. Malfoy looked confused.

"I thought I was supposed to be showing you that I have manners. Stop looking like it's so completely out of character," Harry said, shoving the cup into Malfoys hand.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow as if to say, "You call those manners?" Harry ignored this and looked around the room, sipping his tea in the silence that followed. It was still pretty bad, but Malfoy was apparently making progress by piling things near the door.

"What's this?" Harry asked, trying to sound polite.

"Things I shan't be needing. I'll be moving them into the bedroom on the first floor; it looked fairly useless and we are going to need a storage area."

"Well, I'll get onto that then," Harry offered, feeling rude. Everyone else was working, and it's _his_ house. He downed his tea and plonked the cup on a sideboard, much to Malfoy's distaste.

"I'll move it later, _chill_, Malfoy." Harry rolled up his sleeves, grabbed his wand, and set to work.

"You don't have to," Malfoy interrupted. "You have proved your point, I believe that you are capable of demonstrating manners. You don't have to overdo it."

"Ha!" Harry scoffed, and left Malfoy to stew, a small pile of items travelling along behind him.

O0o0o0o0o0ooo0o

Draco had been standing in the doorway for what felt like hours when Kreacher popped in. He'd felt like he was standing at the brink of an eternal punishment. The room had great potential, to be sure, but it was covered in spiders, and filled with dust bunnies the size of… well, bunnies. Then there were the curtains—what horrible creature had done _that_? And where the hell was it now? And the smell… It was irritatingly familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Whatever it was, it made his arm twinge.

Draco's contemplation of doom was interrupted by the _crack_ of house elf apparition, and Kreacher got to work with silent ferocity. Draco nodded to himself, and stepped into the room.

The master bedroom proved to be a simple job, once Kreacher was allowed to help. Draco began by moving everything he wasn't going to use to the side of the room, trying to make room for Kreacher to clean. He was pondering whether he liked the full length mirror he had brought with him better than the one he was presently looking into when he heard Potter call from downstairs.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR TEA?!"

Draco was not sure what Potter was playing at. The Gryffindor was actually being _mature; _he was almost _adult._ Draco called back, then waited, and sure enough, Potter arrived with a cup in each hand, smiling quite brightly. The smile was so sincere that Draco was sure Potter had poisoned the tea, or at least spat in it.

Despite his perfect composure, Draco could actually _feel_ the shock on his face, and so it wasn't surprising that Potter's smile disappeared in an instant.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Potter held out the tea, and their gazes locked over the cup. There was a smile in his eyes, and Draco felt confused. But then, it had been seven years since they thought they knew each other, since the war. What kind of man was Potter now?

"I thought I was supposed to be showing you that I have manners," Potter said, interrupting Draco's musings. "Stop looking like it's so completely out of character." He shoved the cup into Draco's hand.

Draco had to stop himself from falling about laughing. He called these manners? Shouting at someone from two floors away, and then shoving the cup into their hand when they are obviously dubious to take it? Really, this was his version of manners? He could have sent it with the house elf and then come up to chat, that would have been tolerable, but no. Gryffindors…

"What's this?"

Draco followed Potter's gaze to the pile he had been making by the door.

Draco briefly explained and without a second beat Harry was pulling back his sleeves and volunteering to help. 'God he really is a hero boy isn't he' Draco thought to himself. Draco tried to tell him that he didn't have to and that he had proved his point about him having manners but would the Chosen One listen, No.

It took about 3 of Potters gigantic banging journeys up and down the stairs to move everything and by that time the room looked half decent. All that was wrong with it now was that it looked far too empty and the curtains where still in ribbons. Draco cast a hasty reparo charm on the curtains returning them to their original condition. He stood back and marvelled at the deep purple of the hangings and smiled quite brightly.

"Kreacher?" Draco called into the en suite where Kreacher had disappeared 30 minutes before.

Kreachers head popped out his nose this time covered in bubbles.

"Yes Mr Malfoy sir?" he asked

"I know you're still cleaning Kreacher but I was wondering if I could unpack in here." Asked Malfoy bending down slightly to talk to the small elf.

Kreacher nodded energetically

"Mr Malfoy is most welcome to sir. It won't get in Kreacher's way." He said and then shuffled back into the en suite.

Draco turned then and was surprised to see Potter standing in the doorway, his hair more dishevelled than ever and his mouth slightly open obviously shocked.

"Careful Potter wouldn't want the wind to change"

Draco smirked at his own joke and then pulled a miniaturised suitcase out of one pocket of his robes.

Draco set that on the bed and turned to find Potter not shocked anymore but instead he was just staring at the floor intently, brow furrowed.

"What is it Potter? Trying to do wand less magic?"

"No…I was just thinking" Replied Potter

"Looks like hard work" said Draco with a grin and Potter's head whipped up, his face was also wearing a grin, but a nervous one.

"I was just thinking, that I never thought I would hear you be that nice to a house elf." Said Harry.

Draco's grin left his face and they looked at each other.

"Things change Potter" It was Draco's turn to look at his shoes "but anyway he is your elf. It would be bad manners to treat him badly."

Draco sounded ashamed but couldn't really figure out why. Was it because he treated dobby so badly or because he treated Kreacher so well. He didn't know. There was a long silence

Harry let out a bark of laughter

"Hermione's going to want to hear about this" he said smiling wide and bright

"Don't you dare Potter. Don't even think about it."


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry woke the next morning there was a moment where he didn't remember who was sleeping on the floor below him. Remembering that Malfoy was unattended in his house was not pleasant. More than anything he just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep but he couldn't. The idea of Malfoy sitting downstairs in the kitchen looking at his watch, was just too much. He had to get up, but that didn't mean he had to be completely in the dark as too what was waiting for him.

"Kreacher," Harry whispered.

"Yes sir," Kreacher enquired.

"Is Mr Malfoy in the kitchen?"

"Yes sir, Kreacher made him an omelette for his breakfast Master," Harry made a noise of annoyance at Malfoy and his ability to wake up on time. He instantly regretted the noise, Kreacher shoulders hunched more than usual, "I am sorry Master I should have asked you first."

Harry instantly had to seize one of Kreachers hands as it started to inch toward the heavy bedside lamp.

"No, no, that was great Kreacher, I am very happy for you to make Mr Malfoy anything he wants to eat. Thank you," as he pleaded with Kreacher, the house elf's hand stopped inching and his back straightened a little.

"How long has Malfoy been in the kitchen?"

"An hour and 45 minutes, sir,"

"Fuck" and with that Harry jumped up and started pulling on clothes at random.

He had one leg halfway into his muggle jeans, a sock clasped in one hand when Kreacher coughed.

"What is it Kreacher?"

"Does Master want me to continue with the list he was given yesterday, today? Or has he got other things to be done first?"

Harry was just about to say that he didn't need anything and that the list was the most important thing right now, when his stomach gave a growl. Harry looked from his bare hard stomach to Kreacher who almost looked amused.

"Some breakfast would be much appreciated Kreacher," Harry panted still hopping around trying to put on his socks without sitting down. "Oh and Kreacher, what is Malfoy doing?"

"He is writing Sir, in his little book." And then Kreacher was gone.

Harry had a feeling that Malfoy's notebook was going to become a frequent character in his nightmares from now on.

When he was finally dressed Harry looked in the mirror. He wasn't going to bother trying to look nice, Malfoy would tell him he looked stupid whatever he wore, so today he decided to go muggle. If he had to deal with Malfoy ordering him around for a month, he might as well have some fun with it.

And sure enough when he stepped into the kitchen, Malfoy winced. Harry wondered if Malfoy had a vein like Uncle Vernon, he grinned at the thought, and the responding scowl from Malfoy gave Harry had a pretty good feeling that he was going to find out.

Oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The first sleep at Grimmauld place wasn't as awful as Draco had predicted. The room was clean now but still ugly as all hell and the floor boards creaked awfully, he expected all this, it is an old house. What he wasn't expecting was for the house elf to be so good at his job and Draco found himself lying in bed trying to hear the tiny footsteps on the stairs or on the landing. Draco thought he had been spoilt when it came to elves. Dobby was a very god servant but Draco always thought that was because his father knew how to beat a house elf into submission. He had never seen a house elf like Kreacher. Subservient, but not from fear and not really from love either. Just from loyalty. Draco thought of the house elf heads hanging on the walls and fell asleep.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Harry sat down to breakfast across from Malfoy and dived into his omelette hoping to stall conversation for just a little longer if it was possible, but it wasn't. Malfoy regarded Harry with distaste.

"I suppose I should be glad you use a knife and fork at all," Malfoy stated grabbing his notepad up from the table as if Harry's table manners might be catching.

Harry just rolled his eyes at this stabbing a piece of bacon that had escaped from the cheesy fold of egg. When Harry said nothing in response Malfoy opened his notebook and started asking questions.

"Did you give, Kreacher the list last night? Does he know the circumstances? How did you try and remove the house elf heads? Did the spell bounce off or where they just ineffective? How-

"Okay, slow down. Just pause," Harry interrupted. "Yes, I gave him the list and explained last night. He seemed happy but that's probably just because he gets to clean. As for the heads I have tried everything I know. I have a list somewhere," Malfoy looked disbelieving at this. "What? Sometimes I come across one and I have to figure out if I've tried it already."

"Oh he can be organized too. Merlin Potter stop showing off," said Malfoy with a smirk.

Harry poked out this tongue and hurriedly stopped at he realised he wasn't a 6 year old girl.

Malfoy rolled his eyes "and did they bounce or..?"

"No they just seemed to melt away. Hit them and then just vanished."

"Hmmm well that makes things a little bit more difficult." Mumbled Malfoy to himself making a marking on his notepad.

"Why?"

"Don't worry about it now, Potter I have much more to ask.

And he did. Harry answered about a billion questions. Most of which he had to call Kreacher in to answer.

When Kreacher popped into existence Draco started directing his many questions at Kreacher, eventually Malfoy started to look tired.

"Okay that all seems reasonable," Malfoy said "but," the but was directed at Harry "I'm going to need a stock list of all cutlery, crockery and linens."

Harrry gave Kreacher a nod and the house elf set to work.

"I don't know if I should bother asking what you need those for"

"Just figuring out what I need to buy. Speaking of buying things," Malfoy looked a little embarrassed "How do you want to manage money and shopping?"

"What do you mean?" Harry didn't much like discussing money if he could help it, so quickly retreated toward the kettle as to not look at Malfoy.

"Well the personal shopping we are going to have to do together. So they will be easy to manage."

"Personal Shopping?" enquired Harry searching the cupboards for teabags that Kreacher had hidden somewhere.

"Hygiene Products, Clothing, Haircuts, Manicures, Pedicures and the like," Said Malfoy distractedly flipping through the notepad, to a page that Harry could see over Malfoys shoulder had lots of underlined words and exclamation points. "Oh and of course the Dentist."

"The Dentist?!" squawked Harry spinning around to face Malfoy.

"Yes, Potter. We don't want the Miss Brown to think you're a stereotype do we?"

"A stereotype?"

"Oh come now, Potter, even I know what the Muggle royals look like," Malfoy explained with a tight lipped grin that made Harry scowl. Malfoy smirked at the scowl and then swiftly started to avoid Harry's eye. "The problem will be when you're not with me," There was a pause while Malfoy looked down at his notebook. "I don't have the funds to buy things and be reimbursed."

Harry had forgotten that Malfoy was no longer rich. Everything had been taken from him after the war. Even with Harry standing up at his trail the Ministry was ruthless with fines and Narcissa had sunk most of their money into lawyers so she could stop them from taking The Manor. Which they took anyway because it was Voldemort's Headquarters. They even took his wand. The wand that killed Voldemort. Harry wondered if it was in a museum somewhere.

Harry blushed and turned to carry the steam pot tea pot and cups to the table saying briskly "I could just put money into your account then. I will be paying you anyway, I might as well just put expenses money in with it."

Malfoys looked up at that and took his stupidly sweet tea up from the table and sipped it.

"Yes that should work nicely enough. I'll just keep my receipts and I can pay you back what I don't spend."

Harry trying to get all the money talk out of the way in one go asked "So how much am I paying you anyway? For your… Services?"

"You couldn't afford my services, Potter,"

Harry went a violent shade of red.

"But for my help, you will be paying me," Malfoy paused as he wrote a number on his notepad and turned it to face Potter. "This."

Haggling ensues which is only interrupted by Hermione's head appearing in the kitchen fireplace.

"Harry you did tell Shacklebolt you'd found an assistant didn't you?"

"It's only been a night. I'll get too it." Harry barked feeling pestered.

"To late now. His ridiculous P.A has found someone already and they're on their way over. Now.


	5. Chapter 5

Potter wasn't the same. Draco had been nervous all morning eating his omelette and writing in his notepad trying to add up how much money this place was going to need to be even close to charming. Every now and then he would think about the amount of money his parent would spend redecorating the manor and think that it must have been way more expensive, and they used to redecorate every 8 months or so. He was dreading telling Potter that he would need help paying for things. Draco could feel his father roll over in his grave just at the thought, but when he finally got the nerve up and just said it. Potter seemed more embarrassed than he was.

"I could just put money into your account then. I will be paying you anyway, I might as well just put the expenses money in with it."

Not a sneer or a smirk or a glance. Hardly even a pause. Potter just wasn't the same

"Yes that should work nicely enough. I'll just keep my receipts and I can pay you back what I don't spend."

Draco couldn't believe how adult this conversation was. They were talking about money and receipts and bank accounts. Harry hadn't blushed once, or made an arse of himself.

"So how much am I paying you anyway?" asked Harry obviously trying to get this bit out of the way. "For your… Services?"

Draco smirked and thought to himself _OH I spoke to soon._ Potters had instantly realised his accidental connotations and wasn't making eye contact.

"You couldn't afford my services, Potter,"

Potter's face and neck went so red Draco was reminded of Weasley.

"But for my help, you will be paying me," Draco wrote his fee in large letters on his notepad and swivelled it so that it face Potter. "This."

All embarrassment was gone from Potter's face as he argued about the injustice of Draco's fee. While Draco sat back and listen occasionally giving a smart remark and knowing he would get his way in the end.

At least something's didn't change.

0o0o00o0o0o00

Potter is yelling about Draco adding extra fees to deal with his hair. When Draco hears a pop and a stunned silence and turns to find Hermione's face staring out of the fireplace now wearing a very amused look.

Potter still mid rant turned to find Malfoy and Hermione smirking at each other.

"Harry you did tell Shacklebolt you'd found an assistant didn't you?" asked Hermione looking highly amused.

"It's only been a night. I'll get to it." Retorted Potter obviously feeling ganged up on.

Hermione's smirk widened into a grin "To late now. His ridiculous P.A has found someone already and they're on their way over. Now."

O0o0o0o0o00

"Fuck," Harry shouted "Will I ever get any peace."

"God, unknot your knickers Harry." said Hermione emerging from the green flames of the fireplace.

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up.

"Granger since when are you more fun than Potter?"

"Since always," answered Hermione smiling brightly. "Okay so they'll be here in a few minutes. At least you have clothes on this time Harry. That's an improvement."

"If you call those clothes" mumbled Malfoy under his breathe.

Hermione didn't both answered but turned to Harry who had his mouth open about to defend himself.

"What else needs to be done?"

Harry didn't really think anything needed to be done. They were only coming into the hallway. Malfoy though had other plans.

"A basic dust charm should be done on the hallway," They walked together into the hall together, leaving Harry sitting in the kitchen licking his palm and trying to flatten his hair. He gave up rather hurriedly and rushed after them. Hermione was wandering up and down the hall muttering charms, sucking the dust and cobwebs into the end of her wand.

"I'll cast a scent charm. What do you think? Cookies baking? Fresh flowers? Pine?"

"Anything to cover up the moth ball smell."

Malfoy took his wand from inside his robes and did a tiny flip with his wand. Harry didn't even see his lips move. The smell of a fire burning and cookies baking instantly started to seep from the direction of the kitchen and fill the hall. Harry watched as Malfoy grinned slightly to himself, gave a nod and placed his wand back out of sight. Harry had not seen Malfoy's new wand up close yet. He found himself quite curious about it, having spent a fair amount of time with Malfoy's previous wand he wondered what kind of wand had chosen Malfoy after the war.

Harry's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the doorbell. Malfoy quickly shuffled down the hall and disappeared into the kitchen. Harry looked after him confused, he must have missed something. _Where was he going?_ Hermione was at the door. She rolled her eyes.

"Come here"

Harry trudged up to the door. He wasn't happy about any of this.

Hermione looked at his face, laughed, picked up his hand and put it on the door knob. Then gave him a thumbs up.

Harry opened the door to two women. They looked exactly the same to Harry's uneducated eyes, except their robes were a different shade of blue. He remembered just in time to plaster a smile on his face before the one in dark blue robes stuck out a very well-manicured hand.

"Rosemary Readle. Kingsley's Assistant. I was just coming by to introduce Miss Poppy Pears."

As if on command Poppy, wearing light blue robes stuck out her just as well-manicured hand for Harry to shake.

"Yes I was told you were on your way. You should come in out of the weather."

Rosemary looked a little surprised but glad to be out of the cold. When Harry turned to usher the women back inside he found that Hermione was no long in the corridor behind him. Harry stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. _Where did she go?_ Harry shook it off and turned spoke to the women standing in the hall.

"I'm sorry to say that Kingsley underestimated me Rose. Do you go by Rose or Mary or Rosemary?" Harry asked trying to put some spark into his eyes as he smiled into her slightly stunned face.

"I usually go by Rose. Not many people call me Rosemary," she said returning the smile with gusto "it's so formal, so unfriendly".

Rose lay a hand on Harry's arm then "but what was it you were saying about the minister underestimating you?"

Harry's smile broadened.

"I was going to say that unfortunately I found myself an assistant yesterday."

Harry turned to Poppy and was about show how charming, sweet and sorry he could be when Hermione emerged from the kitchen at the end of the hall.

She came to stand beside Harry pushing an arm through his and "accidentlly" dislodging Rose's carefully laid hand.

"Oh Harry did you tell them the unfortunate news?" Hermiones voice was uncharacteristically sweet.

Rose visibly stiffened at Hermione's proximity in the small hall.

"Yes, Miss Granger he has. If only we were contacted sooner. We could have avoided getting poor Poppies hopes up." Rose said this quite pointedly and laid a hand on Poppies shoulder, even though Poppy didn't look poor at all. To Harry's eyes she looked disappointed but very professional. _Looks like they aren't that alike at all_ thought Harry.

"Yes, that was all my fault I'm afraid," Harry apologised yet again. "It's just that as soon as I learnt there was to be a lady staying with me I haven't thought about anything else since. It's been a very long time since a woman has slept in my humble abode and I knew everything would have to be perfect."

Poppy and Rose nodded along happily.

"Yes it must be very strange for you having a woman around. You've always been a bachelor." Said Poppy.

"Strange isn't the word. Excited maybe, also a bit nervous," Harry bunched up his shoulders in a shrug. "I'm not an expert on what women like."

Just then Harry had a wonderful idea and paused with a bright smile on his face.

"Hermione, I've just had a great idea."

Hermione looked sceptical at once.

"Oh? And what's that Harry?" she gave his arm a squeeze and he knew he better be careful.

"Didn't Kingsley say he wanted some people to come and have a look at the house before Miss Brown was to arrive? To make sure it's suitable for such a lovely young lady?"

"Yes, I believe he did say that." Answered Hermione, she smiled seeming to be getting the gist.

"Well. Who else would be better to say if it's suitable for lovely young ladies than, other lovely young ladies." Harry beamed at Poppy and Rose and they beamed right back.

"What do you say Poppy? Want to come and give me a second opinion after my guys done all he can do? And Rose I always welcome another opinion."

"Yes of course that's a brilliant idea. Thank you Mr Potter" piped up Poppy

"Oh please call me Harry"

The look on Poppies face then was priceless and Harry was quite flattered.

"Okay well that solves everything. I would quite like to invite you two in properly but I have a lot of work to do."

"Yes, yes of course." said Rose opening the front door.

Rose reached out to shake Harry's hand and smiled. "See you in a month Harry."

She reached out a hand to Hermione too, in distaste "Hermione." She said as their hands parted.

And was answered with a curt "Rosemary".

Harry avoiding the stiffness of their exchange smiled and shook hands with Poppy in turn. Polly though as charmed as she seemed had a professional thought just as she was walking out the door.

"So who got the job? If you don't mind me asking. I might know them, same area of expertise and all."

Hermione smiled at this.

"Oh just an old school friend."

At this Poppy and Rose got distracted by something coming from the end of the hall. Malfoy was walking up the hall holding two carpet samples at arm's length.

"What do you think Mr Potter the Burgundy or the Maroon?" he asked

"We'll be right there Draco." Said Hermione crisply over her shoulder.

The women in blues mouths were a gape. Hermione said nothing more than a swift. "See you in a month" before closing the door in their faces with a snap.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry couldn't stop laughing. One of Hermione's hands was on his shoulder to keep herself balanced, and her other was holding her ribs as if they may split. Malfoy was laughing too but not really. His face wasn't nearly as ugly in laughter as he and Hermione; Harry knew that's how laughing properly is supposed to be, ugly, consuming and brilliant.

Hermione finally managing to subdue her snorts and gasped out. "Did you see their faces!?"

The only reply was more giggling from Harry who couldn't seem to stop the snorts himself.

After a long moment they all caught their breath and Hermione regained her upright, dignified posture.

"Okay how about we have a cup of tea in the kitchen," started Malfoy. Then cocking his arm in Hermione's direction added in the most camp voice Harry had ever heard. "My lovely young lady, would you like to accompany me?"

Hermione getting the gist slipped her arm through his.

"I could show you my favourite china pattern," continued Malfoy "and…"

This is when neither of them could hold it in any longer and collapsed into laughter, Hermione literally.

"I did not sound like that." Harry said frowning down at them.

Hermione didn't bother arguing mostly because she couldn't breathe but Malfoy crisply said. "You just keep telling yourself that, Wonder boy. But if you try and use that on a scientist from Australia. She's definitely going to know you bat for the other team."

Malfoy smiled. Hermione had fallen silent and was looking up at Harry. They exchanged a quick glance, both wondering what Malfoy had noticed that he shouldn't have. Harry opened his mouth, he had no idea what he was going to say.

"And we couldn't have that could we? You are supposed to be charming her with your sex appeal." Finished Malfoy.

The knowing smile broke into a toothy grin. He then shook his head to himself.

"God your too easy, Potter." Malfoy said as he turned around and stalked back to the kitchen leaving the two in the hall in silence.

"Fuck." Hermione muttered under her breathe.

"Yeah definitely fuck." Breathed Harry helping Hermione up from the floor.

"What did you do?" asked Hermione catching Harry of guard.

"What do you mean, what did I do?" asked Harry in hushed rebuttal.

"He's only been here one night and he already knows. How does he… Oh no…" A look of horror spread over her face "you didn't… Oh Harry you didn't hit on him did you."

"No!" Harry burst out ruining their hushed argument. "I most definitely did not!"

"Then how does he know then?!" Hermione's voice now rising to meet his.

"I don't know!"

"Well then you better fix it then"

"What? How am I supposed t-"

"Talk to him you dolt and quickly before he does something stupid."

At this she stormed to the door, opened it and turned to find Harry still standing in the same position staring after her with his mouth slightly agape. She flung her arm out in a witchy poo point.

"Go on. Go!"

O0o0o0o0oo0

The door slammed and it rung out throughout the house. God anyone would think she was the one that was just outed to Draco Fucking Malfoy, thought Harry running a nervous hand through his hair. Okay might as well get this over with then. He wandered into the kitchen and headed straight for the kettle, not raising his head until his hand was clasped around a comfortingly warm mug. Harry took a cautious sip and heard an exaggerated exhale from behind him.

At that he decided it was safe to come and sit at the table. He sat down, sighed and brings his eyes to glare straight at Malfoy. Malfoy glared back. His grey eyes boring into Harry's, stone cold.

"Oh come on, Potter" Malfoy laughs breaking the stare. "Stop glaring like I pissed in your tea pot."

Malfoy's eyes are shining with mirth and Harry almost smiles back, before he remembers Malfoy is an utter twat.

"Who told you?" asked Harry continuing the glare with renewed confidence.

Malfoy smirked and let out a huff of a smile, leaning back in his chair.

"No one needed to tell me, Potter. If that stupid act wasn't enough, the way you reacted confirmed everything. P.S you two really need to work on your inside voices. Yelling about it isn't exactly going to, as Granger so nicely puts is "fix" anything."

"So what do you want?" asked Harry firmly not breaking his glare.

"Want? What on earth are you talking about, Wonder Boy?"

"Well I don't really like the idea of being outed by Draco Malfoy. So… I could pay you extra or-"

"Oh you think I'm going to tell everyone?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing "Okay fine, I can understand why you would think that, what with school and all, but I must say I'm a little insulted, Potter. Anyway you couldn't buy my silence, even if it were for sale."

Harry eyed him carefully.

"So you're not going to tell anyone?"

"I don't really give a flying fuck, Potter. Put your pecker where ever you please. The only thing I ask is that you keep it away from me."

Harry still looked dubious.

"I won't tell any of the Rita skeeter wanna bees okay? And they wouldn't believe me anyway isn't that why, Granger recommended me in the first place, I'm the big bad Malfoy. Plus didn't you see those two?" he asked, meaning the witches in blue. "I swear they'd eat you up no matter what. They probably wouldn't believe it unless they saw your tongue down another guy's throat, and even then they would probably think you were passing him an antidote through your lips, because you didn't have a glass and you'd do anything to save a life," he said theatrically. "So just cool your pants, Wonder boy. Nothing's going to go wrong. You keep your hands to yourself and you won't be hitting headlines anytime soon." He paused then to look into Harry's face obviously trying to look honest. "Deal?" asked Malfoy holding out his hand.

Still not certain he took the other man's hand and shook it warily.

"Oh god, do you need a signed contract or something? Stop being so suspicious, Gryffindors are supposed to be trusting and brave. Stop being such a Slytherin."

"Okay fine." Answered Harry after a pause.

"Good now that's out of the way. What's with the bee in Grangers bonnet? I swear from the sound of you two in the hall, it sounded as if she was going to turn you into a flobberworm."

"Yeah, my sexuality has always been a bit of a touchy subject with her." He said taking a mouthful of his tea. It had gone cold so Harry prodded it with his wand sadly. It just never tasted as good warmed up.

"Why?" asked Malfoy.

"Well she's been the only one who's known for a very long time,"

"Oh so I'm the only own who knows apart from Granger?"

"The only one I've told apart from Granger you mean. If I'm as obvious as you say I'm sure other people will know."

Malfoy laughed suddenly at that and smiled quite warmly. "I wouldn't worry about that, Potter, lots of people don't even think of anything but heterosexuality as an option. They probably haven't given it any thought. How did Granger take it though when she found out?"

Malfoy was leaning forward now, eager for gossip, refilling his tea cup with a wave of his wand.

"Not very well." Admitted Harry.

"Yeah I heard that Muggles have this whole anti-gay thing. It's really weird," said Malfoy

"Nah it had nothing to do with the Muggle world stuff. It was… well…"

"What? Did she walk in on you with someone?" Malfoy waggled his eyebrows.

"No, I told her. It was just that…" Harry paused and Malfoy looked at him imploringly he really looked like he hadn't had this much fun in a long time.

"Well you know how everyone was allowed to go back to Hogwarts and do the war year over again?"

"Everyone except a select few." Said Malfoy smiling into his teacup.

Harry had forgotten that Malfoy, Goyle and a few other Slytherin's weren't permitted to return to Hogwarts. The Ministry kept them busy for at least a year after the war, either with punishments for their crimes or in Malfoys case, with trail after trail after trail.

"Yeah. Well. Hermione and I sort of got together during that last year. "

"What? I thought her and The Weasle were at it?"

"No they kissed during the battle but both of them agreed that was just an "we thought we were going to die" kiss. Nothing actually serious.

"What about the Weaslette?" demanded Malfoy.

"Ginny," corrected Harry "was really miserable after the battle she's never really been the same. We're still really great mates but she made no move to start us up again and I wasn't going to push it. But yeah anyway. Hermione and I, were together and…"

"Yes?" prodded Malfoy.

"I think I'd always known that I liked guys. I think I just didn't want to realise it. So I felt really bad when I noticed that the feelings Hermione was having for me. I wasn't having back. It didn't take me long to figure out why, after I really started looking. So… I had to break up with her."

Malfoy grimaced "So you broke her heart, Potter?"

"Yep. She didn't talk to me for months. She always says she just had to think about stuff. That she wasn't really mad at me, after all it wasn't my choice. But I know she was hurt."

"I don't know, the way she slammed that door and ordered you about. It didn't sound like hurt to me."

"No," chuckled Harry. "That's her being protective. She knows, like you said from the Muggle stuff, that coming out can have negative effects. She just wants me to come out at my own speed, even if that speed is snail pace. Doesn't want me to get outed. So beware, she can get quite vicious when she's worried or mad."

Malfoy then to Harry's surprise raised his hand to his face then and said "Yeah I remember"

Harry couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing. The look on Malfoy's face when Hermione had punched him square in said face wasn't one that someone forgets.

"Well then. Since I like my face the way it is, I better make sure that you don't come out before you're good and bloody ready."

"Good then we better get to work on the whole, how to act with Miss Brown thing. If she realises and it fouls everything up, Kinglsey will never let me hear the end of it."

"Don't worry, Potter by the time I'm done with you. You will be almost as charming as me and definitely more charming that everyone else."


	7. Chapter 7

Sleeping is one of Harry's favourite things to do. He never slept peacefully during the war, so now he enjoys it while he can. It took him a long time to learn how to feel safe and sound in bed but now that he can, it gives his head a nice empty feeling when he wakes up. It is a tiny moment of calm and happiness. On this particular morning Harry awoke to find that he was not going to get his moment of clarity, as Malfoy was bashing on the door with what sounded akin to a sledgehammer.

"What?!" yelled Harry wondering if Malfoy would even hear him over the banging.

Malfoy though seemed to have heard him quite clearly and to Harry's surprise did not yell back but instead opened the door and waltzed straight in. _Thank god I wore pyjama bottoms last night_ thought Harry to himself.

Harry doesn't sleep neatly. He looks around the bed and see's that the doona has retreated to the floor during the night accompanied by 2 of his 4 pillows. This head didn't rest on either of the remaining two but on the under sheet, the pillows cushioned his arms, that he had thrown up above his head. The top sheet gathered up around his knees.

"God it would take a marching band with elephants to wake you up." said Malfoy frowning down at him.

"Owls usually manage it quite easily you know." Said Harry sitting up and rubbing grit out of his eyes.

"Well I'm not going to send you an owl every morning just to wake you up, Potter. Now, get up." Said Malfoy throwing a pillow onto the bed from the floor. It hit Harry in the face. _This is not going to be a good day. _

O0o0o0o0o0

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that his clarity was just late and would hit him if he just pretended hard enough. This method proved to be incorrect. Opening his eyes again he found that Malfoy was going through his draws.

"What on earth are you doing?" screeched Harry grabbing his wand off his bedside table and bounding out of bed, to Malfoys side.

"Looking for something decent," sneered Malfoy holding up one of Harry's few muggle dress shirts. "It doesn't seem likely to happen though."

Malfoy held the shirt up against Harry pursing his lips and tilting his head.

"That'll have to do I suppose." He remarked throwing it onto the bed and searching though more draws.

Malfoy was now smirking at a Chudley Canons T-Shirt Ron had given him last Christmas.

"And what exactly gives you permission to storm in here and start throwing things around?" asked Harry snatching the shirt from Malfoys hands.

"It's not like they look any different after being thrown around," Malfoy picked up a pair of black jeans. "I mean do you even own an iron?"

Harry made no response just rescued the jeans from Malfoys clutches, before he could examine the shoddy stitching all over them. Dark arts was a dangerous job and clothes always got damaged. What would be the point of buying new ones every time they got torn? So Harry did his best with basic sewing charms even though he had never been particularly good at them. They were safely out of Malfoy's eye line, when the Slytherin swooped on a pair of suit pants buried at the bottom of his chest of draws. Malfoy gave them a once over, deemed them respectable by his standards and they ended up on the bed as well, with a pair of Harry's black socks and (to Harry's embarrassment) his favourite black boxer briefs.

Harry was shaking his head and trying to cram things back into the draws when he noticed Malfoy had marched into the ensuite bathroom. He followed at a jog and was met with an audible gasp. Malfoy was staring at his wall of products._ Oh no_.

"Well Potter, I must say. I'm surprised."

And to Harry's horror Malfoy looked it, he stood staring for a few more minutes before reaching forward and plucking bottle after bottle off the shelf, looking at the labels with interest, and popping the tops to take a brief sniff.

"You didn't answer my question Malfoy. What exactly is this all about?"

"I'm making you presentable Wonder Boy. We are going shopping today and it's the perfect opportunity for you to see how this is supposed to be done." He closed a lid with a snap.

"This."

A bottle of Pimpover face wash was pushed into Harry's hand.

"And this."

His Vanilla body wash was thrown at him next.

There was a long pause as Malfoy concentrated. He eventually took down the bottle of Unruly Hair Away.

"And that."

When Harry showed no sign of movement, Malfoy turned on the shower and walked briskly out of the bathroom. Harry blinked after him in confusion. He was about to close the door behind Malfoy when a hand clasping him boxer briefs jarred the door.

"Get in. Use those," Ordered Malfoy gesturing at the bottles. "Dry yourself properly, then coming out wearing these" Malfoy then placed the boxer briefs atop the bottles in Harry's arms. "Do nothing else. Nothing. NO shaving charms. NO scent potions. NO hair charms. NO anything." Malfoy slammed the door. _Wearing only those_ Harry thought, as he stared down at his boxer briefs and felt warmth rush up his spine as all sorts of ideas jumped into his head.

O0o0o00o0o0o0o00o

When Harry emerged from the bathroom his towel wrapped tightly around his waist, he found Malfoy had set up an ironing board in the middle of his room. The iron was lazily sweeping back and forth of its own accord while Malfoy went through Harry's ties.

"I still can't get my head around ties," said Malfoy examining a stripy green tie that Harry recognised as the one Molly gave him at graduation. "I mean they just don't make sense. I know all the knots and I understand it on a theory level but who came up with this idea? I mean seriously?"

At this Malfoy turned to look at Harry.

"You wearing anything under that?" Asked Malfoy raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." Said Harry hurriedly.

Malfoy's eyes glinted rather. Harry wondered what he was thinking.

"Well go on, off with it then," Demanded Malfoy flourishing the tie at him. "I need to know what I'm working with. If I should up my fee or not."

Harry feeling very like some sort of lame statue. Let the robe drop.

There was a long moment as Harry swore that Malfoy was trying not to smile. Instead he heard Malfoy give out a sigh.

"Really, Potter?"

Harry looked down at his boxer briefs which now resembled to his pleasure a pair of quite long black shorts. Harry smiled with delight.

"Oh for Merlins sake, Potter." Said Malfoy and aimed a casual flick of his wand at the iron, which stopped moving and sat up abruptly. Then he turned his wand on Harry and judging by Harry's immediate discomfort returned his boxers to their original shape.

"That's better. Now," he flicked his wand upwards and a large full length mirror landed within a foot of Harry's face. "Do you shave your face usually, Potter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Well… what do you mean why…?"

"Why do you choose to be clean shaven when there are so many other options? For example. Is it because it shows off your cheek bones? Or because it makes you look cleaner? More professional?

There was a pause as Harry thought.

"Your lack of answer shows me that you have not ever thought about it. Thus you have never realized the possibilities."

Harry having obviously never thought about this stared at himself in the mirror, and to his shock found that his face now sported a large handlebar moustache.

"What on earth…" started Harry, raising his hand to touch his now fuzzy upper lip.  
He was further surprised to find that his fingers met smooth skin.

"Don't worry, Potter, the charms on the mirror not you. What you don't like it?" Asked Malfoy with a smirk. "What about a goatie?"  
Malfoy rapped his wand on the mirrors frame. Harry could have tucked the goatie into his belt, if he had been wearing one. He raised his brows at Malfoy in the mirror over his shoulder.

"Okay fine maybe the lengths a bit much. What about shorter?"  
This time it was what looked like a small hamster looking thing stuck to Harry's chin.

"Oh no definitely not," Harry's face was yet again smooth.

"Satisfied yet?" asked Harry with a grin and instantly regretted it. Malfoy grinned as well.

"Of course not, Potter, I never give up that easily. How about… ?"

Malfoy went through every different type of beard and moustache that he could think of. One minute a soul patch the size of a postage stamp the next a horseshoe moustache that made even the stoic mirror cringe "Oh definitely not dear!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh when Malfoy finally lost his patience and gave Harry bright red lipstick and blue eye shadow. He laughed further when the mirror could help but voice that it didn't look half as bad as she was expecting.

Finally Malfoy brought the torture to an end.

"Okay, Potter, you can keep your clean shaven look. I'd say you look best with the 5'oclock shadow but you won't be able to have that look for formal guests unless we are trying for that whole "I'm a diamond in the rough thing" that you seem to like."

Harry didn't know whether to take that as a compliment, or not, and was still puzzling over it when Malfoy pulled out his notepad and started scribbling.

He was quite shocked when Malfoy looked up from his notepad and said "Okay. Chest. Is it usually this hairy?"

In confusion Harry looked down at his chest and pulled one of the curls that littered his chest out straight as to see its full length.

"Yeah I suppose so." Said Harry shrugging.

"Hmmmm" was all Malfoy said in return as he peered at Harry's chest in the mirror, "I suppose it is manageable. We wouldn't want to be to clean shaven. Maybe just a half an inch off to define muscle tone."

Malfoy then waved his wand and at Harry's feet was a small semicircle of hair clippings that had, or so it seemed, cut themselves off Harry's own body and dropped to the ground.

"Hey!" said Harry rounding on Malfoy.

Malfoy surveyed Harry face to face for once.

"Not bad if I do say so myself" Malfoy said nonchalantly taking no notice of Harry's murderous glare.

Still extremely peeved with Malfoy but curious non the less Harry turned back to the mirror. His chest which he was used to just seeing as a mat of dark curls was no longer a mat. Now you could see skin through the hair. This meant the muscles of his chest and stomach where actually visible now, hard and toned peeking out from amongst his hair. Harry let out a huff of irritation at Malfoy being right… again.

"Well you still could have asked" said Harry frowning into the mirror.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Well yes I could have. But that would have given you time to disagree, and then I'd feel awfully bad about going ahead and doing it anyway. See if I just pick up my wand and," Malfoy waved his wand at Harrys back this time. "Then I don't have to deal with the guilt." Finished Malfoy smiling.

Harry looked down to his feet to see he now had a perfect circle of clippings. Malfoy had obviously had disagreements with his back hair as well.

"What's next? My leg hair? My ear hairs? My nose hairs?" asked Harry in irritation.

"Well your legs look just fine to me, Potter. All the running around in jeans must keep it in control. And I there are simple charms for ear hair, nose hair, and hairs between your eyebrows. You don't seem to need them at the moment but you never know. I have written them down a long with other precautionary spells." Explained Malfoy matter-of-factly.

Harry couldn't believe he was being serious.

"Show me your hands." Ordered Malfoy.

Harry begrudgingly did as he was told. He was starting to find following orders almost relaxing. Except when he was reminded that they were Malfoy's orders, then he wanted to rebel; as much as he could get away with anyway. Malfoy reached out and took Harry's right hand. Harry expected himself to flinch, but he didn't, in fact he was rather pleased Malfoy had his head down, because he felt a hot blush creeping up his neck.

"If you wanted to hold my hand, Malfoy, you could have just asked." smirked Harry pleased with his rebellion however slight it also made his blush diminish slightly.

"I thought we had discussed my stance on asking." Said Malfoy looking up and smirking straight back.

When he finally dropped his head again to look over Harrys left hand. Harry swore he could see a slight pinkness to the back of the blonde's neck.

"You're definitely going to need a manicure." Malfoy stated.

"You're having me on."

"No I'm not, have you seen your cuticles?" asked Malfoy now looking at Harry's hand palm down, feeling the roughness of his skin "and some lotion wouldn't kill you either."

Harry was looking at Malfoy in disbelief when he saw his brows knit together. Harry glanced down to see what had confused the Slytherin so, and found Malfoy was running his thumb over Umbridges only lesson that wasn't complete rubbish.

"Yeah we could spell that to keep it hidden if you like. Sort of a gruesome story starter." Said Harry with a smile.

"Yes I'll look into spells for that" replied Malfoy clearing his throat.

Malfoy let Harry's hand drop and turned to the ironing board.

"Kreature is making breakfast as we speak," he picked up Harry's pile of clothes, shoved them into his arms, and was half way across the room before he turned around.

"What?"

"I remembered your hair."

"Oh." Harry said with a shrug he really didn't know what Malfoy could try that he hadn't already but he was already willing for someone to have a shot.

"Oh forget it for today," Malfoy said flapping his arms in exasperation. "We are running late anyway. Just get dressed."

Harry sniggered as Malfoy slammed the door behind him. Happy that even though he couldn't drive Malfoy crazy maybe his hair could. He must have heard the snigger though because a moment later Malfoys blonde head was thrust into the room.

"But don't think you've gotten out of anything. I will get to it eventually," He announced pointing a long white finger at Harry accusingly. "Now get dressed."

Slam went the door and Malfoy was gone again.

Harry flipped off the now closed door and went about getting dress, trying hard not to think about how he had just been rather naked, for rather a long time, in front of Draco Fucking Malfoy. 


	8. Chapter 8

Harry met the smell and sound of sizzling sausages on his entrance to the kitchen, and smiled at an unsteady Kreature clad in an apron, standing on a stack of phone books in order to reach the stove.

"Smells good, Kreature."

The Elf nearly fell off the stack trying to make his replying bow and quickly turned back to the fry pan.

Malfoy was not in the kitchen which was a relief thought Harry, as he knew that most of his day was going to be spent with the pure-blooded prat, he should try and enjoy his time alone. This proved to be impossible, as he sat down at the table to find a copy of the daily profit open on the table. The Head line of the double paged spread in the middle read "Saviour fool for a foe".

_Whether through legal means or not, Ex Death Eater Draco Malfoy has gained entry to a house belonging to one Harry Potter. Under the guise of an employee, Malfoy now has access to the wizarding world's most cherished young bachelor. According to an anonymous source Potter doesn't seem suspicious of this obvious wolf in sheep's clothing. Does he pity the man? Does he hope to reform him? If this is the case I'm afraid our charming saviour may have bitten of more than he can chew. Our sources also say that Hermione Granger (Potters high school sweetheart) got Malfoy the position within Potters staff. Which makes this reporter wonder about her alliances. Has the handsome death eater turned Grangers head enough, for her to betray her former friend and lover? All we can hope is that Potter will discover the traitors in his midst. _

Harry stopped reading and threw the paper down with a clatter, as sausages and toast were slipped under his nose by Kreature who gave Harry a sympathetic look.

"Kreature could you bring me a quill and parchment please" said Harry obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Kreature looked confused but scuttled to fetch the items. Just missing Malfoy who arrived moments later to see Harry digging into his breakfast with vigour, his face stony.

"Oh so you saw the paper I take it." Said Malfoy with a smile.

Harry looked up from his sausages and scowled, he didn't understand how Malfoy could be smiling at the moment. Malfoy flounced round to the seat across for Harry, and snatched up the paper. Flicking it open with a flourish, he started to read aloud.

"I don't know which part was my favourite. I think I'm caught between them thinking you're charming and insinuating Hermione has a thing for me. What do you think, Potter? I've never liked Traci Thomas much. Not half the same flare as Skeeter.

"Yes. Skeeter was much better at making my life difficult. It's such a shame she has been banned from publishing." answered Harry with a smirk, swallowing his last mouthful of sausage.

As soon as Harry had placed his knife and fork on the now empty plate it was gone. Swiftly replaced by a crisp piece of parchment, a pot of ink and his favourite quill.

"Thank you, Kreature." He said before grabbing the quill and penning a quick letter to Hermione.

_I assume you have seen the paper. I knew this was a bad idea. We really shouldn't have let Rosemary see who it was. I think their faces where worth it though. Going shopping to day. Come over after work. Bring alcohol. _

_Harry._

_P.S Malfoy is hoping for heart felt poetry. Not chocolates and flowers. Something tasteful._

Harry then folded the parchment into a paper plain and walked over to the fireplace.

"Who you writing to?" asked Malfoy, suspicious.

"Just telling Hermione I won't abide her falling for a git like you" Harry grinned, tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace, and when the green flames rose, threw the plane in with an expert flick of his wrist.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

Once the green flames died down Harry stood on the hearth, handful of floo powder at the ready.

"Come on then I thought we were running late." he said pointedly to Malfoy as he stepped into the fireplace. Before Malfoy could reply there was a flash of Green flames and Harry was gone.

"We are."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at how melodramatic Hero Boy could be, and snatched up his notepad before following Harry into the flames.

O0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0oo0

As Harry stepped out of the flames in Diagon Alley, he was surprised and relieved to find nobody within eye shot, and quickly wrapped himself in his invisibility cloak. This was his usual custom when he couldn't get his hands on a Polly juice potion, or a heavy duty illusion spell.

This though meant that when a ruffled Malfoy stepped out a few seconds after him, trying to rid his robes of soot with irritation, the Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen.

"Psst!" hissed an invisible Harry not two feet from Malfoy, this to Harry's immense amusement caused the Slytherin to jump.

"What on earth are you doing, Potter?" he hissed back in Harry's general direction.

Harry not wanting to admit to Malfoy his cowardice when it came to the public, explained that people usually take articles about him quite seriously. So being seen together might not be a very good idea right now. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"So you're telling me that I could have left you in the same clothes that you rolled out of bed in this morning?"

Harry stayed silent beneath his cloak.

"I swear there is a small part of me that thinks you somehow planted that article, so you didn't have to be seen looking half respectable."

More silence from beneath the cloak.

"Fine then, hurry up Hero Boy and stay close. I won't know if I've lost you."

Malfoy then turned with a swish and stalked off at such a speed that Harry almost had to run to keep up. Only half way down the street did Harry realise why he was walking so fast. People had started to stare, and glare, and swear, and many other rhyming verbs. Harry gritted his teeth in anger at his own selfishness. Of course people would believe the prophet why was he always surprised at people's idiocy. Malfoy at the sight of them didn't seem distressed. He just walked on, head high and chest out, looking as much like a Malfoy as he possibly could. He was so good at it Harry started to wonder if people were always like this, not just on the day that the daily prophet accuses him of having ulterior motives when it comes to his job.

Malfoy stopped so suddenly Harry ran into him, thankfully everyone was keeping such a wide birth of Malfoy that no one heard the whoosh, as all the air was knocked out of Harrys lungs, and the clatter, as he fell back on the cobble stones.

Harry could tell that Malfoy was trying hard to hold back a smirk as he opened a shop door, holding it for just long enough that Harry could sneak in behind him.

It was a robe shop. Rolls upon rolls of material lined the walls, and wracks of everything from kilts, to dress robes where perched about the store. They were not the most eye catching thing in the store though. The woman at the counter was exquisite. Dark hair that matched her skin was wrapped up casually, and secured with a clip at the back of her head. She looked casual, beautiful, and safe. She was currently bent over an order form scribbling away, when she heard the bell that alerted Malfoy and Harry's arrival she didn't look up.

"Be with you in a minute" she said, her mouth becoming a thin line as something on the form seemed to not add up.

Malfoy sauntered up to the desk, he seemed completely at ease here. Harry thought it funny how just a simple step through a doorway could change Malfoy so drastically. Malfoy was now peering over the woman's shoulder at the order form.

"Never really much for customer service were you?" barked Malfoy.

Harry was affronted, how dare he walk into someone else's shop and start ordering them around. He knew the Malfoys were self-important but this was going a bit too far.

The girl looked lazily up at Malfoy and smiled.

"I knew it was you. I could smell your cologne from the second you walked in. You know sometimes more is less Draco." She said with a sneer to rival Malfoys.

Malfoy to Harry's amazement, laughed. A loud bark of approval that caused the girls sneer to turn into a grin.

"You looking for Dad then, or have you just come to have a go at me?"

"A bit of both to be honest" said Malfoy with a grin.

The woman rolled her eyes. "DADDDDDD!" She called out. Her voice bouncing of the walls hit Harry from all sides causing, him to cringe, memories of Dudley came clawing out from his subconscious.

A large man emerged from the back of the shop. His taller stature and large stomach evidence of a life of comfort. Harry wondered if he would ever look like that. Or had he been deprived that. His thought of the Dursley's were wiped from his mind when he saw the man. Of his own free will. Hug Draco Malfoy.

"DRACO!" he boomed pulling Malfoy into an obviously rib cracking hug, that reminded Harry very much of Hagrid. Yep, he was very sure he had massaged his sides in the exact same fashion, after an overly friendly altercation with the Half Giant.

"What brings you around, my boy?" Asked the man clapping Malfoy on the back with a large hand.

"Well thought I'd take it upon myself to bring you a very prestigious client." Answered Malfoy smirking.

The woman scoffed. "And where exactly would this person be? We don't make house calls. Even if he is Harry Potter?"

Is there nobody in the magical community that doesn't know every step of my life? Thought Harry.

"Oh he's just a little shy." Answered Malfoy reaching behind the counter.

Harry heard the flick of a switch and it was slightly darker within the shop. The windows looked like they had been papered over from the inside. Harry figured it was some sort of illusion charm but didn't have much time to think on it, as a hand reached out and ripped his cloak from him.

"Ta da," said Malfoy "Notice. Not bound or gagged. Much to my disappointment at times."

Harry stood in the middle of the shop, his hair even messier than usual from the static from his cloak. He didn't quite know what to say. He did know what to do though. He punched Malfoy roughly in the arm.

"Why'd you do that? I know you don't do asking but that was just stupid. Look what you did to my hair." Said Harry trying to flatten his hair again to no avail.

"You are a present, Potter, a surprise one at that. I thought it was tradition that presents where unveiled. You wouldn't break with traditions would you Hero Boy? Disappoint these poor members of the wizarding community."

It was the woman's turn to punch Malfoy. It was much harder than Harry's though. Malfoy grimaced and rubbed it tenderly, as the woman extended the once fist shaped hand to Harry.

"Lovely to meet you Harry. I'm Dot. Don't take any notice of him. He's meanest to people he likes you know."

"You really want to believe that don't you?" said Malfoy shaking his head and rubbing his arm. "If it helps you sleep at night."

The large man seemed to be finished waiting for the children to stop squabbling and pushed roughly through them in order to seize Harrys hand.

"Tanner Twilfitt, sir. So very good to meet you."

That's when Harry realised this must be Twilfitt and Tattings. No wonder he didn't recognise it, he's never been in before, but he did know that they designed their own patterns and made their own materials. The most beautiful witches and wizards at a party where always wearing something made a T'n'T as the call it. Which made Harry think of dynamite, which was annoying because he always laughed at the thought of people calling their clothes dynamite, but he could never explain his joke to wizards. They were always very worried at the idea of Muggles blowing things up.

Harry looked around. It was so modest and ordinary. He really wouldn't have imagined this as the place that made such dynamite cloths. He chuckled to himself.

Tanner cleared his throat loudly breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"What's so funny, Potter?" asked Malfoy looking at Harry suspiciously.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"What so they use this stuff to blow things up?!"

"Yes. But that's not the point. The point is that it's also used as a slang word for awesome. So when they say your clothes are TNT. They are saying your clothes are dynamite. Which means that they are awesome." Explained Harry for what he was sure was the third time.

"Slang?" asked Malfoy.

"Oh forget it. Aren't we here for a reason, Malfoy or are you just dragging me around for a good laugh?"

Malfoy shook his head. "Yes. Tanner I need you to measure him. This man has the worst wardrobe I have ever seen and you're the only one that can help."

"Flattery will get you everywhere in life, my boy." Smiled Tanner and put his arm around Harry's shoulders, guiding him into one of the dressing rooms, leaving Malfoy to rush around comparing colours. Dot went back behind the desk smiled at Malfoys enthusiasm, and started asking about what kind of materials Malfoy was thinking. Pen in paper in her hand.

Tanner gestured to a stool in the middle of the room and Harry, knowing the drill got up on it. Tanner to Harrys surprise measured by hand. He pulled out a measuring tape from one of his many draws and set to work. It wasn't long though before the silence got to Harry.

"So how long have you known Malfoy?" he asked. He was indeed curious about how Malfoy had gained these new friends. Especially when they seemed to actually be genuine ones.

"For about 6 years. We had met before that of course but I was working for him so I don't count it. But yeah about 6 years ago. Came in, annoyed me into letting him apprentice with me. 3 hard years after that I couldn't get rid of him."

So he had worked here. That made sense Hermione said he was trained in these things, but Harry had never thought of where you would learn it.

"How long did he stick around then? He's not working for you now is he?" asked Harry terrified for a moment that he had stolen one of Tanners employees.

"Oh no he stopped working here a year ago. Could you raise your arms please? Thanks you. Yeah he went off on his own, always comes back though. He misses us."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. Malfoy missing someone? Tanner saw that Harry was disbelieving and chuckle

"Yeah, he would never actually say it of course. It's a Malfoy thing."

"Yeah I know all about the Malfoy thing" said Harry with a sigh.

"You knew him at school right?" asked Tanner.

Harry nodded. Thinking about it though he realised he hadn't known him at school, more hated him on sight. He wasn't going to voice that though.

"He was a little bugger back then wasn't he?" laughed Tanner. Harry laughed to thinking that Tanner must have read his mind.

"I swear there was more than a few times he came in here, ordered me around, was a right brat. I swear, I wanted to put him over my knee and I'm not a man to spank a child. Just ask Dot."

They sank back into silence, a thoughtful silence though, a comfortable silence. Harry hadn't experienced many of those in his time and it felt good.

When he had finished Tanner handed Harry a list of measurements. Then turned heading for the door. Harry was at his heels when for the second time that day, he smashed into the person in front. Tanner turned and looked at Harry, it was a weird look. Harry didn't quite know what it meant.

"He's changed a lot though. He tries now. He really does. Even if you don't think it," He said slowly. Then he shook his head. "Sorry just didn't want you thinking I thought badly of him or nothing."

Harry nodded. "No sir. I have already seen a surprising amount of evidence that he definitely isn't the same."

They walked out into the store front and found Malfoy arguing with Dot, brandishing a piece of dark green fabric at her. Sneering "Green will always be superior, nothing will make me believe otherwise, and if you keep saying "but he's a Gryffindor". I'll hex you."

"Well then again I could be wrong" said Harry under his breathe.


	9. Chapter 9

The next two hours, where the most boring of Harrys existence. While Malfoy swanned around the shop pulling out fabrics, Harry sat. Watching as the Slytherin got excited over ridiculous things, like bright turquoise material with mermaids, which winked at you if you gave them enough attention. Harry thought the clothing part was superfluous, but the magic was something he hadn't seen before, and he found himself wondering how it all worked. No wonder Malfoy had pestered Tanner into teaching him, even Harry found himself hanging on Tanners words. Hoping to catch something that he could look up later, or more probably ask Hermione about tonight.

Every now and then Malfoy would look at Harry and ask him snidely. "What do you think of this, Potter?"

When Harry proved to have no opinion what-so-ever Malfoy always rolled his eyes and continued to flounce about, but Harry suspected that he was happy that Harry knew nothing. It meant he could make all the decisions for himself. Harry's suspicions where confirmed when he drew the line at a kilt of dark green.

"But the green, as you so lamely put it. Will go well with your eyes and hair, Potter. I'd be a fool not to use it. You really need to get over your prejudice. "

"I have no issue with the green as you well know, Malfoy. It's the kilt."

"Kilt?" asked Malfoy looking at the garment in hand. "This isn't a kilt, Potter, look no buckles at the side and no kilt pin." Malfoy said spinning it round to show Harry their absence.

"What is it then?"

"It's a skirt, Potter, you have seen a skirt before haven't you?" asked Malfoy with a sneer.

"Of course. I've seen a skirt before, Malfoy. On women," Stated Harry thinking he was pointing out rather an obvious whole in Malfoys plan. "I am not a woman."

Malfoy and Tanner were looking at each other in confusion.

Dot then emerged from a back room, holding a midnight blue colour that Malfoy had requested, to see the 3 men looking befuddled. This made her smile widely.

"What's going on here then?" she asked

"They are trying to make me wear a skirt." Harry said accusingly.

"So?" asked Dot. "What's wrong with that?"

Harry was shocked at the question and screwed up his face in confusion.

"Skirts are for woman. Men don't wear skirts." Harry said with confidence, but at the looks on the other threes faces he was suddenly not so sure.

There was a long moment while everyone thought.

Then Malfoy asked. "Potter, you remember Florean Fortescue?"

Harry nodded vaguely not knowing where this was going.

"What did he usually wear?"

Harry thought hard. It had been a number of years.

"A yellow waistcoat. A bowtie…" Then Harry remembered. "And a kilt."

There was more silence.

Dot looked at him with sympathy.

"Harry that wasn't a kilt, that was a skirt. Wizards don't usually wear kilts unless it's specifically part of their heritage," said Dot. She then turned to Malfoy and Tanner. "I had heard rumours that Muggles had a stigma about men wearing skirts, but I always thought it was rubbish."

"Obviously it's not," said Malfoy looking at Harry, he could have sworn he saw sympathy there, but it was gone as fast as it had come. "Looks like the skirts out then," he added putting it back on the rack, obviously disappointed.

When they finally left Harry had paid for an order of

2 sets of dress robes.

2 sets of everyday robes

1 Pointed wizard's hat

He didn't know what colours any of them were in. Malfoy had made all those decisions without asking him, and Harry was secretly glad. Harry didn't think he needed the hat but didn't push the subject. As they moved through Diagon Alley in search for a floo to take them home, Harry noticed many wizards in what he had assumed where kilts. His brow furrowed, he really couldn't explain why he had made the mistake, it seemed so obvious to him now. He shrugged to himself under the invisibility cloak, after all these years he wasn't really surprised. The wizarding world was a weird place and Harry had gotten used to it.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0

Home and satisfactorily filled with tea and lunch. Harry decided it was about time that he took a good long nap. He had earned it, plus the house getting steadily cleaner was depressing him. He knew he had things to do, but if he wondered around the house he would see how empty it is. Malfoy had retired to his room (still too werid). He was probably doing work Harry thought to himself begrudgingly, stupid prat that he was. Harry sat pensively for a moment then realised he was thinking again, and decided he needed more tea. He also decided to make some for Malfoy, he after all, was definitely thinking. When he called Kreacher to deliver the tea, he could have sworn the elf smiled. Harry not sure what that was about, shook his head trying to break the threads of thought from his head and lumbered up to bed, took off most of his clothes and fell into it with a crash.

O0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o

Harry awoke what seemed like 5 minutes later. There was a steady stream of noise from downstairs, he blinked around in confusion. Harry for a moment thought it sounded like Mrs Black but then noticed the voice was not angry, it was sad and also wasn't much like a voice. It was more like screech.

Harry sighed, wondering if he would ever get a good sleep ever again. He found a pair of pyjama bottoms within arm's reach of the bed and threw them on. Leaving his top halve bare, he started to trudge downstairs.

What he found on the stairs though was the cause of the noise. It was Kreacher. The elf in hysterics, had attached his tiny fingers around Malfoys wand arm and was pulling with vigour, screeching loudly, they may have once been words but had dissolved in the panic. Malfoy in retaliation had a hand wrapped in the elves pillow case, try desperately to pull the creature from his arm. Harry watched this bizarre wrestling match for a few moments, the shock making Harry forget his ability to help.

He only snapped out of it when Malfoy noticed him standing there and yelled in frustration. "Oh no don't help or anything. Don't mind us!"

"Kreacher stop it!" commanded Harry loudly trying to cut through the elves screeches.

Immediately Kreacher let go of the wizards arm and stood before his master. Only then did Harry realise that Kreacher was crying. Fat tears rolling of his bulbous nose and into his pillow case.

Harry was caught completely off guard by this display of emotion, and couldn't help but snap at Malfoy.

"What did you do?" he said glaring at Malfoy.

"Nothing!" answered Malfoy defensively.

Harry raised his brows not believing that for a minute. He knew Kreacher could be, as Ron put it a "bit of a nutter", but he didn't do things like this unprovoked.

"What happened?" asked Harry.

Malfoy seemed to soften at the less offensive question. He grumbled a little then pointed. Harry followed his finger and came to the elf heads, old and wrinkled, hanging from the wall.

"You tried to take them down?" asked Harry trying to keep his voice even.

"Well sort of, I didn't get a chance to even try anything. I only got half the words out before he jumped me."

Harry looked down at the still dripping elf.

"Kreacher what happened?" asked Harry conjuring a handkerchief and dabbing at Kreachers chin.

"Malfoy. *Sniff* Destroying. *Sob* Family." Was all Harry got out of him, before he broke into screeches again.

"No Kreacher, Malfoy wasn't destroying them. It's okay," Said Harry trying to comfort the small creature. "He's just trying to take them down." This caused Kreacher to break into louder screeches. "Tell him Malfoy."

Malfoy didn't say anything and Harry looked up to see a guilty looking Malfoy avoiding his eye. Harry's eyes turned to slits.

"What on earth were you doing?!" Yelled Harry his sudden anger cutting off Kreachers sobs.

"Trying to get them of the bloody wall! Just like you wanted!" yelled Malfoy.

"Without talking to me first!"

'"I didn't think you would care. I thought Hero Boy would want them done and dusted!"

"Well I do care! Why do you think I hadn't tried that before?! Maybe because I don't just destroy things because I don't like them! I take other people's feelings into account and I'm not arrogant enough to think I know best ALL the time!" yelled Harry. "And stop calling me Hero Boy!

There was a long silence.

Where had that all come from wondered Harry. He usually prided himself in the fact that he didn't usually yell. Kreacher was looking up at Harry and for the first time looked scared of him. Harry past him the handkerchief and Kreacher tried to blow his nose on it.

Still more time past.

"I didn't know." Said Malfoy quietly and Harry could hear the _I'm Sorry_ buried within it.

"I know you didn't" replied Harry.

There was a sigh from both of them.

"It's the only way though, Potter. House elf sticking charms are impossible to break. The only thing you can do is try and destroy the object itself, and a lot of the time that doesn't even work. Some have heavy protection wards." Said Malfoy looking apologetically at Kreacher.

"House elf sticking charms?" asked Harry.

"Yeah the way your spells melted away when they hit them, means a house elf stuck them up there." Explained Malfoy.

"Oh yeah. Wizarding magic's colliding causes ricocheting because of the repulsion theory," remembered Harry, defence against the dark arts study coming back to him, "So the only thing to do is."

"Destroy them." Finished Malfoy with a sigh.

"No, Malfoy," said Harry kneeling down.

"Kreacher?" asked Harry getting the elf to look him in the face.

"These were put up by house elves right?" There was a slow nod accompanied by a small sob.

"So… Do you know how to take them down?"

Yet another gulp, sob and nod.

"Do all house elves know?"

Sniffing and a nod.

"Thank you so much Kreacher. It's Okay they won't be destroyed. You can stop crying. I promise."

Kreacher knew Harry didn't take promises lightly and straightened a little and the sniffing came less often. Harry stood up and smiled at Malfoy.

"See sometimes asking gets you places." He said pointedly.

"Hasn't gotten us far, he still hasn't told us how." Said Malfoy obviously angry that he hadn't thought of that.

"He doesn't have to." Said Harry to Kreachers surprise as much as Malfoys.

The little elf was looking up at Harry with a weird mixture of shock and hope. Malfoy was about to ask, what on earth the Gryffindor was on about, when Harry spoke to the air.

"Dobby" he called.

With a crack Dobby was there looking up at Harry with eager eyes.

"Oh Mr Harry Potter sir." He squeaked bowing low. His Hogwarts staff uniform, black against his pale skin. As he bowed Harry could see that his name was printed on the back. Like a sports jersey almost, except he had no number.

When Dobby turned to bow to the other Wizard though, he let out a high pitched "Draco Malfoy!" and stumbled back a few steps to cling onto Harrys pants.

"Yes, Dobby he is here. It's okay though he is helping me."

Dobby looked like he highly doubted it, but none the less let go of Harry's pants and bowed to Malfoy. Malfoy inclined his head, avoiding eye contact with the elf.

"What is Harry Potter needing sir?" asked the high pitched elf. Eyes falling warily on the tear stained Kreacher.

"I would like to know if you could take these of the wall please, Dobby" asked Harry politely smiling at the elf.

"Hmmmmm" said the elf looking up at them closely.

Malfoy without warning summoned a small stepladder and Dobby ascended it, after a thankful look to Malfoy who was still avoiding his eye. Dobby nose to nose with one of the elves ran his hands around the back of the plaque. Then with a small tug he lifted it off the wall, and past it down to Harry below him. He did this with each of the heads and when he was finished.

Harry said "Thank you, Dobby." And with that the elf was gone.

O0o00o0oo0oo0o0o

Potter was smiling like an idiot. "Well that was easier than expected." He said picking up the plaques.

Draco just didn't understand Potter. What was all that with his elf. Why not just make his elf do it. Didn't make any sense.

Potter his arms now full of house elf plaques, was clattering down the stairs. Calling over his shoulder. "Come on Kreacher!" the elf broken out of his sobs by the order, shuffled off after him. Draco rolled his eyes. What was the Gryffindor up to now? His curiousity made him give a resigned sigh and follow the elf.

Potter was headed for the kitchen. Was he going to hang them in there? Floo them to someone else? Merlin knew when it came to Potter.

"Open the cupboard, Kreacher" said Potter as he entered the Kitchen, and the elf shuffled to the corner of the kitchen, while Harry stood laden down with elf heads. Draco just knew this was the first of many weird situations, that Potter would through him into, damn Potter with his odd life. It just wasn't respectable.

Kreacher had opened a cupboard Draco hadn't noticed before, he had assumed it contained the water heater and was found to be correct. It also contained many blankets, photo frames and random pieces of jewellery. Draco watched over Potters shoulder, as he unloaded his arms into the cupboard. Kreacher was instantly in it with his relatives brushing his fingers over them and positioning them so he could see them all at the same time. It made Draco feel quite sick and he had to look away.

But he still heard the elf give a soft shuddering "Thank you" before Potter closed the cupboard.

Potter brushed his hands together "That's one less job now." He said cheerily.

Draco just stood pensively. Trying to figure out what he had just witnessed.

"You okay?" Asked Potter.

Draco's stony face was obviously worrying him.

"Why didn't you just make him do it?" Draco finally asked when he figured out he couldn't handle not having an answer.

Potter thought for a moment. "I don't like making him do things he obviously doesn't want to. Plus it felt," Potters thought some more "It felt a bit like digging a grave. You wouldn't make a son dig his father's grave. It's cruel. The power we have over them, it gives us the ability to be cruel."

Draco knew that all too well. He couldn't look Dobby in the eye, even now. Potter looked at him then, like he knew what he was thinking. He after all knew Dobby's story better than anyone else.

"Sorry I yelled before. It's just that I try not to let any more harm come to him. If I can." Said Potter sadly. "I don't really have much understanding or control over what he does to himself."

"What like locking himself up in a cupboard with memories of dead relatives and sending himself batty?" asked Draco raising one eyebrow.

There was a silence where Potter smiled widely, looking around.

"Funnily enough I totally understand that one." He said.

,


End file.
